The Untitled GleeKickAss Slashfic Crossover II
by GeniaTheParadox
Summary: Finn/Kurt. Finn's POV. Part Two of the randomest story I've ever written, and loaded with angst and swearing.


**Rated M for strong language and implied sexy times, again, mainly said by Kurt. **

This bit is set kind of at the end of the movie, after Kick-Ass and Hit Girl (well, Hit Boy) kill Frank D'Amico and all those other mobsters.  
Just to set the scene – Finn and Kurt have come back to the Hummel house. Burt Hummel, AKA Big Daddy, has just died.  
This one is going to be about four million times more angsty than the last one, so sorry in advance :S

I _still_ don't own Glee or Kick-Ass. Although, if my badass version of Kurt Hummel really existed (imagine that!) then I would want him to be my personal bodygaurd.

Reviews are to me what makeovers are to Kurt. So **_review, review, review, _**my lovely Humble Readers 3

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**The Untitled Glee/Kick-Ass Slashfic Crossover Part Two**

It felt kind of weird now that everything was over. The Hummel house was quiet and strangely comforting after everything we'd been through. I'd never really felt comfortable in this place, what with all the weapons and stuff, but that was before... well, just _before._ Now I felt like I had to be here. I'd never noticed how big this house was. I couldn't leave Kurt alone.

We were down in Kurt's room, him in his desk chair and me on the edge of his bed. This was all very familiar but, at the same time, completely different. The first time I was in here I was totally freaked out. As much as I was hopelessly infatuated with him, Kurt scared the crap out of me. He was – for lack of a better word – a badass. He was tough, he was confident, he was kind of horrible to everyone but his Dad and he was a lot more frightening than he looked. But now... now he just looked broken.

It was like once he took off his mask he wasn't Hit Boy anymore. He wasn't this strong superhero that wasn't afraid of anything and could take on a whole building full of huge mobsters with ease. That was just a mask. Behind it all, Kurt Hummel was just a sixteen year old gay kid with a very effeminate voice, who had just lost the only person he'd had in the world. Suddenly, it all made sense to me.

I used to think that the relationship between Kurt and his Dad was kind of weird. I mean, c'mon, this guy had raised his kid to be a superhero, an expert killing machine. Normal Dads taught their kids how to catch a football or ride a bike. They didn't teach them how to take a bullet or throw a knife at someone's neck. It seemed really wrong, really screwed up. But now I kind of got it.

Mr. Hummel knew that being Big Daddy was dangerous. Teaching Kurt all that stuff, making him train everyday and fight bad guys every night since he was a little kid, wasn't just to make him into an awesome superhero. He wanted to make sure that Kurt could look after himself. When you looked past the badass exterior, Kurt was actually really vulnerable, and I think Mr. Hummel must have seen that. He knew that there was a chance that he could be killed at any time, and that Kurt would be all alone. His son was little for his age, and sounded like a girl, and was really obviously gay in a city full of homophobes; he needed protecting more than most kids and what was he supposed to do if his Dad wasn't there to look after him?

Kurt had more than proved tonight that he could take care of himself. He'd avenged the deaths of his parents. But that wasn't going to bring them back. I just realised that Kurt hadn't had a second to grieve. He'd watched his Dad die right in front of him. He had tried to save him and failed. It was the saddest thing I'd ever seen. But, even as he told his Dad he loved him for the last time, he didn't crack and he didn't shed a tear. But now there was nothing to distract him, and just looking at him I could see how heartbroken he really was. He wasn't sitting how he usually did, with his legs crossed and his back straight and one eyebrow arched, looking like he owned the place and everyone in it. Now he was slumped on his chair, staring at the floor, those gorgeous bluey-green eyes looking kind of dead, his mask still clutched in his soft little hands.

"Kurt," I said cautiously. "Are you, erm... are you okay?"

God, what a lame question. Couldn't I think of something better than that?

"I'm fine," he said stiffly.

After a pause, I said "Y'know, you're allowed to be sad."

"Jesus fucking Christ, Finn, I said I'm fine!" he suddenly snapped, glaring at me. "Can't you get that into your thick skull?!"

"But you're not fine," I said, trying to sound gentle. "You're obviously not fine, Kurt. You don't have to bottle it all up in front of me, y'know. You're allowed to grieve now. I mean, you just lost your Dad."

"Shut the fuck up," he said slowly, dangerously. "You dare say another word about my father and, I swear to a God I can't imagine exists, I will rip your fucking eyes out."

I knew that he was being serious, but I just couldn't let this lie.

"Look, Kurt," I said. "I get what you're going through."

"No, you don't!" he scoffed.

"Yeah, I do!" I insisted. "You and your Dad were so close, and now you feel like you don't have anyone."

"Stop talking," he said, narrowing his eyes.

"But you've got to understand that you're not alone," I said, carrying on as if he hadn't said anything. "You have me. I'm here for you."

"Oh, _please,"_ he said, laughing humourlessly. "The only reason you're here is because you're a shitty superhero who needs my protection, and you're dying to get into my pants. Don't act like you give a fuck."

"But I do," I said. "Despite my better judgement, I do actually really care about you, Kurt, and I'm going to be here for you."

"Yeah, well, I don't need you!" he yelled, getting up off his chair. "I can look after myself! So you can just fuck off out of my house!"

I looked at him standing there – fuming with rage and angrier than I had ever seen him before – and I knew that I should just do as he said and leave. But, of course, I didn't move. If I always did all the stuff that I _should_ do, I wouldn't be in this situation right now.

"No," I said firmly.

"_No?" _

I shook my head. "I'm not going anywhere."

Kurt laughed humourlessly again. It was a really scary sound. "Either you get the fuck out of my house now, or you're going out in lots of little pieces in a fucking trash bag. It's your choice, shithead."

I stood up slowly and looked down at him. He glared up at me, breathing heavily with his fists clenched tight.

"I said I'm not going anywhere," I said slowly. "I'm not leaving you alone in this house. You'll fall apart. I know that you don't like to admit it. I know that you feel like you have to act tough all the time, but... you need me, you know you do. If not me, than... _someone._ I wouldn't feel right if I left you all alone."

Kurt looked as if he was determined to carry on glaring at me, but I could see his eyes getting a little wet. I slowly stepped closer to him.

"You're allowed to be upset," I said gently. "Holding it all in is just going to make you feel worse. You don't have to act tough for me, Kurt."

He shut his eyes and bit his bottom lip so hard that I was surprised he didn't draw blood, shaking his head. I very carefully placed my hand on his arm.

"You're allowed to show how much you miss him," I said softly.

He opened his eyes and looked up at me again, but this time he didn't look like he was going to kill me. Now he just looked utterly lost.

"I do miss him," he whispered. "I miss him... so much. He was all I had."

"You have me," I whispered back.

He looked at me for a second that seemed to go on forever. And then, quite suddenly, he burst into tears. I circled my arms around him and he wrapped his arms around me too, holding on much tighter than I expected. Seriously, I was surprised he didn't end up cracking one if my ribs or something.

I wasn't sure how long we stayed like that, but I was willing to hold him for as long as it took. We seemed to fit so perfectly together, even though he looked like a little kid when he stood next to me (but, then again, everyone did. And he already looked like a little kid). I could feel how much he needed this by how tight he held onto me, as he buried his head in my chest and cried his eyes out. I rubbed his back and kissed the top of his head. His hair smelt really nice. Wow, that sounded so creepy.

"Finn?" I suddenly heard him whisper, making me jump slightly.

"Yeah?" I quietly said back.

"You know all that stuff I said about getting the fuck out of my house and everything?" he asked.

I nodded, before realising that he couldn't see my face. "...yeah."

"I've suddenly had a change of heart," he said. "Don't go. Your unnaturally gigantic presence is actually rather comforting. Don't leave me, Finn."

I smiled and kissed the top of his head again. "You don't have to tell me twice. I wasn't going to go anywhere."

He slowly raised his head and looked up at me then. His eyes were all big and innocent, although I could tell it was kind of real innocence now. Not like when he usually did it. He looked so beautiful, with his cheeks all rosy and his lips all pink and a bit of a black-eye starting to form and some dried blood under his nose. Like a gorgeous little angel that had been in a fight.

I'm not sure why I did what I did next. It was like I stopped thinking, I guess. I leaned down and caught Kurt's lips in a really light kiss. He immediately tensed up, which made me nearly have a heart attack. Oh shit, why did I have to kiss him! This wasn't like when I first tried to kiss Quinn Frabray. All she did was slap me in the face and storm off, yelling about how she had a boyfriend and stuff. This wasn't like that at all. Kurt was _armed._ I'd lost count of the amount of time he'd threatened to kill me since I first met him. This stupid kiss was literally _life-threatening._ What the hell was wrong with me?!

"Shit, I'm – I'm s-sorry," I stuttered, pulling away and blushing like crazy. "I-I really shouldn't ha-"

But I never got to finish that sentence. Kurt grabbed the back of my head, pulled me down and kissed me back. It wasn't really hot like the first time he kissed me. That kiss was just a piss-take, but this didn't feel like that. It was kind of chaste and sweet and... I don't know. I can't really think of a way of describing it. _Surprising _is probably a good word though. That word seemed to describe a lot of things about him. He is like, sponsored by the word 'surprising'.

I couldn't help but sigh as we separated, which made me feel kind of girly, but whatever. Kurt looked up at me and smirked, arching an eyebrow. It was nice to see him back to normal, even though that look never really meant anything good.

"Y'know, Finn," he said matter-of-factly. "For someone who is borderline retarded at the best of the times, you're really, really sweet."

I laughed a little. It felt good to laugh. "Wow, Kurt. That was almost a real compliment."

"I know, right," he said, rolling his eyes and acting grossed out. "Your pussy-like behaviour seems to be rubbing off on me, dumbass."

My grin got even wider and probably even dorkier. "See, that's more like. You sound like yourself again."

He paused for a second, just looking at me with his hands resting on my chest and that adorably evil smile on his face. He was so beautiful.

Then he said "Look, Finn, what I'm about to say I've never really said to anyone before, so I expect you to appreciate it. And if you make me repeat it, I swear, I will fucking gut you. Seriously."

"Oh, I believe you," I said hastily.

Kurt hesitated for a second, and then said "Thank you, Finn. For... for everything."

I didn't think it was possible for my smile to get any bigger. "Anytime."

Kurt went up on his tip toes to kiss me again. Then he sighed and said thoughtfully "I'm still feeling rather tense. Usually when I'm in a mood like this, I'd just practice my knife throwing and take out any pent up aggression on the mannequin. But, seeing as _you're here_, I could relax with some really rough, violent, passionate and incredible hot fucking. Something tells me you'd be, erm... _up_ for that."

Oh God, I'd forgotten how hot he could be. His hands slip painfully slowly down my chest, his fingers tracing every contour of my body through my Kick-Ass costume. Holy shit.

He looked up as if he was thinking. And then he shrugged and, very annoyingly said "Ah, screw it. I'm not in the mood. I feel like some target practice."

He gave me a sweet, innocent smile and walked away.

Damn, I also forgot how much he loved being a cock-tease. I sure can pick them.

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I love that I'm the only one who has thought to cross Glee with Kick-Ass. Says a lot about how my crazy little mindtank works, doesn't it?

Anyways, REVIEW!!!

Ooh, and any of you Tweethearts out there can legally stalk me a **/paradox_  
**Go on, you know you want to stalk me... :)

xxx


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